Chuck Vs the Childproof Safety Locks
by Afficted
Summary: Part V of the Postcard Series. Charah to be found in chapters 1 and 4! "When I became a man, I put away childish things." Or not.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi all! Latest installment of the Postcard series, here!**

**And unlike my last section, this one if Charah-fortified. **

**Thanks everybody for reading and reviewing. I do love reading those reviews, so please keep 'em coming!**

**Thanks to my wife and Anon for editing. My wife wanted me to have Chuck and Sarah go out on a date. I can't say no to her, can I?**

**Oh, and special shout-out to Poa who would like me to try to cut down on my one or two sentence paragraphs. It may not be immediately apparent, but I'm trying. I'm trying! **

________________________________________________________________________

Sarah Walker, having closed the cover office, shortly arrived downstairs to catch the tail-end of the argument.

"-Don't see why I can't just use the tranq gun."

"Bad guys wake up from tranq guns. Then they shoot the good guys with _real_ guns."

Sarah stopped on the stairs, half-considering a silent retreat. She had known this discussion would happen sooner or later, but she had hoped it would be later than just one week after they had gotten back from D.C. She didn't relish Casey pitting her against Chuck, as she knew he would, though she also knew he would be right to do so. Well, she was just going to have to suck it up. She had promised herself that the new relationship wouldn't make her act differently in her duties. She stepped into the room, where both men looked at her.

Chuck had opened his mouth to speak, but Casey beat him to it, "Walker, tell your boyfriend about the facts of life, wouldja? This is becoming a broken record with him."

Sarah frowned. She had wished that Casey wouldn't have been predictable.

"Chuck," Her eyes immediately apologized to him for what she was about to say, "Casey's right. I know it's against your nature, but it's not realistic to think you're going to be able to do this job without killing."

Chuck gave her his puppy-dog look, as if to say, "Don't you love me for my sweet innocence and regard for human life?" She had to shake her head for a second to remain steady. "I've done pretty good so far," he insisted. "Before the new Intersect, I was able to use my brains-"

Casey coughed out a laugh.

Chuck continued as though he hadn't been interrupted. "I used my brains to beat the bad guys. When I got the Intersect, I was able to knock 'em out with my kung fu skills. I've done pretty good without having to kill anybody. Well, there were those two with 'the Morgan', but those were accidents. And speaking of accidents, the only time I had a real gun, I shot a _good_ guy in the leg! Let's be honest, here. Do you really want me to be packing heat?"

Casey mouthed the words, "Packing heat." Sarah forced herself not to smile. "Chuck, I think it is safe to say that neither of us wants you to have to carry a gun. It's just the reality of the new situation." She didn't feel comfortable about that. She truly didn't want Chuck to lose his innocence. However, Chuck had made a choice, and he needed to be ready to fully commit to that choice and all it entailed.

"I did really well with the tranq guns. I managed to knock Casey out-"

"It took three shots, Bartowski, THREE!" growled the Colonel.

"With three shots," appended Chuck. "Then, I successfully knocked out a whole mess of Fulcrum thugs at Roarke's with the tranqs, all at once!

"Yeah, and did you happen to notice that some of those thugs returned later to shoot up your sister's wedding?" replied Casey.

Chuck was silent at that one.

Sarah felt bad for him. "Chuck, you're not going to have to kill in every situation. Obviously, you've seen many cases where we were able to capture and take prisoners, but that isn't always an option. In many situations, we need them to go down and stay down. We can't just tie up everybody and hope that they're out of commission."

Chuck sadly said, "I'd like to find another way. Between us and the Intersect, we should find another way that doesn't require me to kill."

Casey stood up, and said in a peevish tone, "You sure seem OK when Walker or I kill somebody if it saves your life. We can get our hands dirty, but not you."

Sarah gave Casey a look which said, "Not helping," but the big man acted like he didn't see it. He turned around and walked to the door, muttering, "Don't forget the new mission briefing with Beckman tomorrow at 0900. Be on time." Then he was up the stairs and out the door.

Sarah turned back to Chuck who seemed thoroughly depressed. Knowing Chuck as she did, Sarah had no doubt that Casey's last barb had hit home. "Chuck, do you want to talk about it?"

He stood up and said without making eye contact, "Later, maybe. We got dinner reservations. I'm gonna shower."

________________________________________________________________________

They arrived at Il Ristorante Vita in Santa Monica shortly after 6 p.m. Chuck had requested that she wear the blue dress from Ellie's rehearsal dinner. He was wearing a cream linen suit that she was only now seeing, because he had bought it two days previously. She had to admit that he looked gorgeous in it, even wearing a black t-shirt and his standard sneakers, but between that and the obvious fanciness of the restaurant, she wondered what the occasion was.

Sarah took one look at the menu, and raised her eyes with concern toward Chuck. No entree was less than fifty dollars. "Uh, Chuck?"

He glanced at her briefly before asking the server for a wine list in addition to the menu.

Sarah realized that he was receiving consistent government pay now at a significant increase. Still, she hoped he knew what he was doing. She smiled a little when he struggled over reading the entree names on the menu, and made a joke about the sand dabs selection. She attempted to order the least expensive item, but he challenged her on it, and ordered filet mignon for her. She felt a tad indignant, but let it pass. After all, she loved a good filet mignon.

However, when Chuck decided to order a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon in excess of $200, Sarah couldn't keep silent anymore. "Hold it," she told the server. "I'd like to discuss the wine selection with my boyfriend."

Chuck frowned, and told the server, "Ah, no. I've been looking forward to this wine. Please bring it."

Sarah stared at Chuck. The server stared at Sarah. Chuck looked from Sarah to the server, and said, "Wine, please. Uh, go?"

Chuck looked back at Sarah, a determined expression on his face.

"What are you doing?" she asked, trying and failing to keep the anger out of her voice. She couldn't figure what this was all about, this behavior of his. It wasn't like him to be extravagant or to flaunt money. The only reason that she imagined that he might be doing this was…

Her eyes widened, her stomach dropping through the floor. "Empty your pockets!" It came out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying.

Chuck furrowed his brow, appearing perplexed. "Wh-what?"

"Just do it!" She was staring at his hands, in a panic.

Chuck pulled out his wallet and some lint, and then he looked back up at her. "It that it?" she asked in a strained voice.

"Uh, yeah, I'm not carrying any weapons, or anything."

"No jewelry? In boxes or otherwise?"

"Uh, no. Though if you'd like some jewelry, we can go to the mall after-"

"Chuck!" She said forcefully, hissing through clenched teeth. "Why did you bring me here? Do you have any plans to ask me something?"

Realization appeared to finally dawn on Chuck, and his face suddenly developed a flush. "Oh my- you thought that I- Well, no! I mean, not that I wouldn't like to at some point, but we just got together, and- Oh God, did I freak you out? I'm sorry."

Sarah took a moment to calm down.

The wine arrived. The server opened the bottle. Chuck gave the cork an extremely exaggerated sniff which resulted in a laugh from Sarah and an eye roll from the server. Chuck offered the cork to Sarah, and she gamely gave a less intense sniff. Then Chuck took a small sip, which he then let dribble out of his mouth and back into his glass and dabbed at his chin with a napkin. Both the server and Sarah grimaced in slight disgust. Chuck looked at them both, and said, "What? Isn't that how you're supposed to taste wine?" He smiled at the server. "Thank you, it is excellent."

The server gave Chuck one more disgusted glance and then left, muttering, "Yeah, whatever."

Chuck grinned at Sarah. She gave him a wry smile in return. "Are you having fun?" she asked.

"A little bit. Evening's getting a bit better."

"I know you've seen too many Bond movies to believe that was the acceptable way to taste wine."

He laughed, "Guilty. The expressions on your faces made it all worth it."

Sarah laughed for a moment herself. Then she remembered her concerns. "Chuck," she took his hand. "Why are we here? Why the extra expensive treatment?"

Chuck brought his gaze down to the table for awhile, before finally bringing it back to her. "I've always wanted to take you to a great place like this. Take you out for an evening that you deserve."

Sarah smiled, pleased, but shook her head. "You know that I don't care about this sort of thing."

Chuck said, "You're an international spy. I'm sure you've spent time at the most exotic locales and restaurants imaginable. You've eaten escargot, and other dishes I wouldn't even be able to pronounce, and you've drank wine a lot finer than this, I'm sure. Now, you're in Burbank with me. I just wanted to give you back some of that exotic existence that you're missing."

Sarah stared at him. "Yes, I've gone to a lot of those places you're talking about. I also sometimes went days without eating in the line of duty. I'd rather spend the rest of my life eating at places where the bill is less than $20 as long as you're there eating with me."

Chuck began to look down but she leaned over took his chin in her hand and pulled his gaze back to her. "Tell me what's wrong, Chuck."

"I'm blowing it, Sarah. I nearly drove you away when I took on the new Intersect. Then, the whole mess with the jealousy. I'm blowing it, and I'm going to lose you."

Sarah moved her hand from his chin, only to envelope his face with both her hands. "I'm not going anywhere, Chuck."

"What if I can't hack it, Sarah? The argument with Casey, this mission tomorrow; what if I can't make this work?"

"_We_ will make this work. I believe in you, Chuck. We'll take it one mission at a time, but I believe in you."

At that moment, they heard someone clearing their throat. Both looked up to find the server standing next to the table, their dinner plates on his arm.

They pulled back to their own sides of the table while the plates were placed. Sarah smiled at Chuck. "So, are you only going to take me out to rich places, when you think I'm going to break off our relationship?" she asked, taking a sip of her wine. It was a good choice.

Chuck returned the smile and said, "Yeah, though I'll probably also do it when I eventually get around to asking you to marry me."

Sarah began to choke on her drink. Chuck quickly came around to her side and began to pat her back, muttering apologies all the while. After she was breathing again, they both dug into the meal. They both agreed that the food was excellent, though perhaps a good-humored server would have been preferable.

As they were nearing the end, Sarah said, "You know what I'd like? If you didn't already have any plans after this, I'd like us to do something that we haven't done before. Something that you'd like to share with me, but haven't yet.

Chuck looked at her thoughtfully and then gradually smiled.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

They were standing just inside the gateway of the gaudy park.

"Mini-golf? Really?" Sarah asked skeptically.

"Hey, you're the one who put me in charge."

Sarah nodded. "Yeah, I did." Her tone was resigned.

"Aw, c'mon, Sarah. I mean, this'll bring back memories from when you did mini-golf as a... kid." His voice trailed off as he saw her expression. "Aw, no," he said, horrified.

Sarah raised her chin and responded with partially mock pride, "I'll have you know that I did lots of fun stuff when I was a kid. Dad would treat me to ice cream whenever I helped him pull off a successful con." Ignoring Chuck's wince, she continued, "I went to the zoo, the circus, baseball games, the dog track. Just never mini-golf."

Chuck said, "Well, it is time to fill in this gap in your education, Ms. Walker!"

Sarah smiled. "Lead on, Sir."

While Chuck was renting the golf clubs, Sarah scoped out the premises. She watched the various patrons, some teenagers, kids with their parents. She looked at them, and as it so happened, they looked right back at her.

"Ahhhhhh, Chuck?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think maybe we should have changed into casual clothes before we came here?"

Chuck looked at himself in his suit. He then looked at her in the blue dress, lingering _much_ longer.

"Nope. Besides, if we'd taken time to go home and change, we wouldn't have as much time for mini-golf!"

She smirked at him, but acquiesced. The attendant gave them the clubs and three multi-colored balls each (on Chuck's request). They walked to the first hole.

"So," Chuck began in a business-like tone, "just treat this like a regular golf game, with fewer line drives, and with more dragons and castles."

Sarah smiled, and said, "I've never played regular golf, either, Chuck."

He looked at her with disbelief. "Come on! What about all the international intrigue? Didn't you have to ever seduce a guy with your golfing skills?"

Sarah grinned, "Amazingly, what a lot of countries have in common culturally is, the men don't want to play golf with the women. Tragic, I know."

"Well, it's all in the control of the power of the stroke and the aim, and I know you've got control, power and aim, so you'll do fine. Come over here."

She walked over to him, taking a club from his hand. He tried to instruct her on posture and method. She didn't feel comfortable though. Throwing knives and shooting were still different then this. Seeming to realize her discomfort, Chuck said, "Here, let me help you." He stepped behind her and slightly leaned into her, placing his hands over hers on the club.

Sarah's eyebrows immediately rose, as did a wide smile shortly after that.

_Hmmmmmmm….._

With his guidance, she was able to drive the ball down the "green" toward the first hole.

"There," Chuck said, satisfaction in his voice as he stepped away from her. "You did fine."

She had stifled her grin as soon as he faced her. Feigning a casual tone, Sarah asked, "Have you ever played mini-golf with other women?"

Chuck appeared to give it some thought. "Other than Ellie when we were kids? No. I've invited Ellie to go since then, but she was never interested. Of course, Awesome once asked her and she went immediately. Did they bring me? Of course not." He seemed put out by the memory.

Sarah considered him for a moment. Two years later, and he still surprised her. Surely he couldn't be _that_ innocent?

When they arrived at the second hole, and Chuck handed her the golf club, motioning her to take her turn, Sarah realized that yes, in fact, he _could_ be that innocent. Keeping a straight face, Sarah smacked the ball so it went off the course and into the realm of hole 15 nearby. Chuck apologized to the miffed players on hole 15, then gave Sarah a perplexed look.

She shrugged. "Not the same as throwing knives, I guess. Would you do the hand-over-hand thing like you did before, honey?"

He scratched his head, appearing suspicious, but he agreed. He still didn't seem to get it, though. Chuck's innocence was one of the things Sarah adored about him. For that reason, she considered that it might be best to leave his innocence intact.

_Nah. _

He figured it out on hole 5. Chuck had continued to be confused by her inability to play the game without his guidance. However, on hole 5, after glancing around to make sure they weren't being watched at the moment, Sarah made a sudden movement with her lower body while Chuck was behind her. His sharp intake of breath communicated that he finally got it.

On that particular shot, she achieved a hole-in-one. "Yay! I did it!" she exclaimed as she rushed over to grab the ball where it rested. Chuck stood absolutely still for awhile, before following.

On hole 6, he attempted a retreat. "Y'know, Sarah, I think you've got the gist of this. Why don't you give it another try by yourself again?"

She affected a pouty look. "Really, Chuck? I'm not so sure that's a good idea. You saw what happened before. I've got too much power and not enough aim. If I drive another ball off course, I could accidentally kill somebody."

Chuck glared at her. She gave him an innocent smile in return. He got behind her, but not before anxiously staring at the other park guests to make sure they weren't noticing.

By hole 9, Chuck was having some difficulty walking. He tried getting out of it, by claiming his legs were tired, and he needed to sit down on the bench.

She sweetly mouthed to him, "Get. Over. Here."

On hole 12, Sarah asked, while his hands were guiding hers, "Does mini-golf normally make you breathe hard?" Trying to control panting, Chuck replied, "Not as a rule, no." She was having difficulty breathing herself.

Chuck was sweating by hole 15.

On hole 17, Sarah whispered harshly, "Chuck? I don't think I'm going to make it to the end of the game."

"You sure about that?" Chuck responded in an extremely constricted voice. "Only two more holes to go."

"Well," she said, "I think if we finish the last two, we're going to need to make a little pit-stop in one of the public restrooms. Together."

Chuck moaned. "There are children in those restrooms!"

She said, "Yes, Chuck. Yes, there are."

Chuck said through gritted teeth, "I'd better take you home."

Sarah said, "Yes, you'd better take me home." She made one more move, scooting herself back into him, causing him to shudder. Looking over her shoulder at him, she added, "Then just take me."

With some difficulty on Chuck's part, they made their way to the exit. Pretty much everybody in the park watched them leave. The stone-faced cashier who received their clubs started to open his mouth, when Chuck said, "Don't worry. We're not coming back here again."

They managed to make it inside the car, where they stayed for awhile.

________________________________________________________________________

**Here's an e-mailed conversation between Anon and myself that I wanted to share:**

**Anon: I am torn about Chuck's not knowing the wonderfully social applications of miniature golf. He's a nerd not a dork.**

**Me: Believe it or not, I myself, had been unaware of the social applications of mini-golf (and I'm 39), however, whether or not I, myself, am a dork is still up for discussion. My wife explained it to me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! Well, we're on to Chapter 2. **

**Thanks for the feedback on Chapter 1. I love the reviews! Please keep sending 'em!**

**Thanks to my wife and Anon for editing brilliance, as always.**

**On with the show.**

**Oh, I don't own anybody in the Chuck universe. Think I neglected to mention that last time.**

**________________________________________________________________________**

_My God. How did this happen?_

Chuck Bartowski lay in bed, contemplating the form of the beautiful sleeping woman; her head nestled in the crook of his arm, one of her hands lying on his chest.

That was the problem. He couldn't quite figure it out. He relived the glory that was the previous evening. Everything from her reassurances at dinner to the torturous but exquisite mini-golf game, to what took place in the car and at home, afterwards. Things like this happened to others, not him.

When he strained his mind to its utmost, Chuck could just about accept that he had simply hit the lottery. In spite of the edicts of reality, a woman such as Sarah Walker could actually fall for him.

How on earth would he be able to keep her, though? Patient, Sarah might be, but not infinitely so. They were in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, and Chuck had already done what he could to sabotage a time in which they should only be experiencing joy together. Chuck was well aware that all honeymoons must end, and not necessarily at the same time for each member of the couple. Chuck thought it seemed likely that Sarah would come down to earth a lot quicker than he would. At that point, the problems posed by him and the new Intersect would not seem quite as insurmountable. If he didn't get his act together, sooner or later, Sarah was going to move on.

While keeping their relationship intact was foremost on Chuck's mind, it was hardly the only reason for him to wrestle the new Intersect and himself into shape. If you were looking at this from the viewpoint of one John Casey, the Chuck / Sarah relationship was the _least_ important reason. Chuck reminded himself that he hadn't uploaded the Intersect for Sarah. He had done it because it was necessary to fight the Ring, and to protect the country.

Yet, it had been almost two months since the upload and the waylaying of Miles' crew. Chuck's attempts at activating the Intersect since then had been failures, with the exception of beating on Casey once, and the horrible seduction mess.

Chuck's mind and emotions were the key to making this Intersect work, but he couldn't get a handle on it. Hell, he couldn't even come to grips with getting his _conscious_ mind in line with the needs of the job!

The time spent in the bogus Downtown office hadn't been completely wasted. Chuck was getting into much better shape. If the new Intersect should suddenly activate and he went into Kung Fu mode, at least he'd be less likely to hurt himself as much as he had on the first outing. But Casey wasn't a glorified gym trainer. He was trying to make Chuck a viable agent. Chuck was failing him.

Their bitter exchange yesterday flew through Chuck's mind, especially the last crack about Chuck's willingness to let the others kill for him, but not vice-versa. Was that true? When Chuck had first met him, he was intimidated by John Casey and his reputation. Casey had demonstrated from the beginning his ability and willingness to kill on the job. Though initially horrified, Chuck quickly came to reluctantly accept that Casey was only killing the bad guys, the result being that Chuck's life was regularly saved. He had looked past Casey's exterior, and come to consider him a friend, much to the Colonel's periodic chagrin. Accepting Sarah having to kill took much more time, mainly because Chuck had difficulty reconciling his rapidly growing feelings towards her with the needs of her job. Even the Mauser incident was eventually resolved with a brief conversation. Chuck had wished the Fulcrum agent's death hadn't been necessary, but once Sarah explained it, Chuck hadn't felt himself mourning the man's demise as much. Sarah had acted to keep Chuck safe. He knew both Sarah and Casey would kill to keep him alive. They should expect the same of him. It wasn't like he was completely innocent, either. To save himself and Sarah, hadn't he worked with Casey to bring about the brain-frying of multiple Fulcrum agents during the suburbs mission? So, what was stopping him now? Chuck had tried to keep a firm moral high ground for himself. He wasn't so sure that was an option anymore.

"Hey."

Chuck glanced down. Her eyes were open. She was smiling at him.

"Hey," he said, softly kissing her. "Good morning. It's almost 8. We need to get ready for work."

________________________________________________________________________

They unlinked hands as soon as they arrived Downtown. They had long agreed that public displays of affection would not occur on the job, except as necessary _for_ the job. Part of this was out of respect for Casey, who was clearly uncomfortable with such displays. On the other hand, this was the same man who seemed to freak out that they _weren't_ all over each other in the week following his favor to them. Chuck and Sarah had both found that quite funny, and agreed that there was just no pleasing some people.

The main reason for the decision though was to ensure that the relationship wouldn't interfere with the job. Sarah had done her part, and Chuck had _tried_ to do his, but….

He pushed away the thoughts. Continuous dwelling on the events of the D.C. mission was not helping anybody. Casey preferred to act like the whole fiasco hadn't happened. Sarah had agreed to move on. Chuck needed to do the same. Focusing on his failures was not going to help him overcome them. Probably seeing his distress, Sarah shot him a look of concern, but Chuck slowly shook his head and smiled reassuringly. They entered through the back warehouse entrance into the Castle.

Casey was already there, setting up the chairs for the meeting. They handed him a coffee to which he grunted his thanks. He didn't bring up the talk of the previous day.

Beckman was onscreen five minutes later.

"Good morning, Team," she said crisply. "I trust you've been keeping busy since your return to Burbank?"

"Training, training, and _more_ training, General!" Chuck sang out without thinking about it. This elicited a small smile from Sarah, and a cock-eyed look from Casey. Chuck realized that he might still be a bit giddy from the prior evening. The General remained expressionless. Chuck thought that she just might be getting used to him.

Casey cleared his throat, and said, "We've been stepping up Chuck's regimen. With the amount of hours we have him putting in, we're halving the amount of time required in most normal physical conditioning."

"I see. And have we been able to uncover any new features of the Intersect, or been able to revisit the fighting capabilities in the system?"

Sarah stared straight ahead. Chuck couldn't help nervously turning his eyes toward Casey. "We have not, General," said the Colonel. "While Chuck has been able to demonstrate the continued ability to flash on various types of documentation and visuals, none of the new features of the Intersect have lately presented themselves."

"That's a problem, wouldn't you say, Colonel?" Turning her attention to Chuck she sternly continued, "Mr. Bartowski, we are not paying you a full agent's wages so you can continue to function at the level of an Asset. It is a full agent we need. The Intersect is supposed to make you that, but if the Intersect proves to not be a working mechanism, we are going to need to revisit our arrangements, do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Chuck said, trying not to break out into a sweat.

Sarah chose this moment to interject, "General, if I may ask, has the intelligence we secured in D.C. from Langus Greene borne new fruit?"

Chuck squirmed a little. Did she _have_ to bring that up?

Apparently, Sarah did have the right idea. Beckman seemed more pleased, anyway. "As a matter of fact, on deeper inspection, we think that the Greene data may have brought us more than we had originally thought. It was hard to tell on first inspection. The Intersect has yet to give us a direct Ring link." The General's gaze flashed irritably to Chuck, then she continued, "However, enough research can uncover more ties. We were able to find a series of warehouses cross-country. We've already had some of them explored. In some cases, the areas are vacated. In others, there are no people, but there have been residual files that our best have been able to recover from wiped hard drives from servers located there that are indeed useful. There have been a couple of places where there is both data and enemy personnel to be found. We've made a couple of arrests, but we've also lost some of ours in the process, and some of the enemy have been able to escape or take their own lives before they've been caught. Locating the warehouses has taken extensive time and we didn't have the ability to go after them all at once, so unfortunately, the Ring is aware that we have some knowledge at this point, making operations all the more dangerous."

"This brings us to you. We've just located a warehouse in Los Angeles. Contracts indicate that it was in the process of being renovated into an office building, but that the project wasn't completed. It's in a fairly deserted section of the city; strange place to develop an office. The three of you are to go this evening at the address I'll provide. Even if the place is deserted, maybe Chuck can flash on something after the fact. However, in the event that the Ring has not cleaned out that location, take care. Again, they've managed to do damage to us already. Understood?"

All three nodded. The General signed-off.

Casey looked around to them and growled. "Normal training schedule today, 'cept we'll break at five, so you can have dinner, take a nap, or something. We'll reconvene at eight."

Sarah nodded, then made her way back to the upper office. Chuck was about to get his training togs out of his locker when he said to Casey, "Hey, about yesterday's discussion…"

"Don't worry 'bout it, Bartowski," interrupted the Colonel. "We see anybody, we capture them. You can bring your tranq gun."

Then Casey walked away with Chuck thinking, _Guess I deserved that._

______________________________________________________________________________________  
_

The three arrived in the van a little past 10 p.m. The warehouse in question was located off of a dirt road. The building appeared to cover a block of territory. It was two stories. No lights inside. No signs of life, anywhere. This part of the city was closed down. No open businesses within five miles. Another five miles to the closest residence.

"Yup," muttered Casey. "This looks like a great spot for an ambush." Sarah and Chuck nodded in agreement.

"Why'd we get so close to it?" asked Chuck. "Aren't they going to be alerted now?"

Casey said, "My guess, if they're here, they've got alarms far out that would catch anybody trying to walk in. So we might as well save ourselves some time. One way or the other, they'll know we're here."

"Great," said Chuck.

They began to gather their equipment. Sarah and Casey got out of the front. Chuck had opened a back side door and was about to exit when Casey came around and stood in front of him.

"Um, what formation do you want us to use?" asked Chuck.

Casey just looked at him. Sarah looked at Casey her brow furrowed.

Chuck looked at Casey, took a deep breath and said, "You're going to ask me to stay in the van, aren't you?"

Casey shook his head. "You got that all wrong, Chuck."

Chuck sighed in relief. "Oh good, I-"

Casey gave Chuck's chest a good shove. Chuck flew back into the seat. Casey slammed the door. Sarah's eyes widened.

Casey said, "I never ask." He pushed a button attached to the end of his key chain. The locks on the van clicked in place.

Chuck sat up and both he and Sarah simultaneously cried out, "What are you doing?"

Casey grinned. "Remember how you ultimately caught your Ex, Chuck? I'm surprised we never thought of that for you. Be thankful I'm not handcuffing you to anything."

Chuck struggled to undo the locks. Nothing. He looked at Casey. "Chuck-Proof Safety Locks?"

Casey laughed. "'Chuck-Proof.' I was thinking 'Child-Proof' but 'Chuck-Proof' is pretty good! Nice one, Bartowski." He leaned in to look at Chuck closely through the window. "I told you awhile back that if you couldn't get it together, you'd have to stay in the car."

Sarah said, "Beckman wanted him with us on this!"

Casey said, "So she did, but his safety is still priority. You and I are going to make sure the warehouse is clear and _then_ we'll bring in Bartowski to check it out. Until then, you can watch us on the monitors, Chuck. If you get bored, shoot yourself with your tranq gun."

"Nice one, Casey," sneered Chuck, "but what if the bad guys find me alone in the van?"

"Let 'em! The glass is bullet-proof. They won't be able to shoot their way in, and any messing with the van from the outside or…" Casey looked at Chuck significantly, "the inside will cause the ignition to turn on and send the van on a preprogrammed and unchangeable route back to Burbank. So, if you think of messing around in there, Bartowski, enjoy your trip."

Chuck and Sarah both glared at Casey. Casey ignored Chuck, turned to Sarah, and said, "You gonna start anything? 'Cuz, time's wasting."

Sarah growled, "We _will_ talk about this later." She looked at Chuck through the window, clearly upset.

Chuck said, "Sarah, it's OK. Go. I'll live. Just don't trip over anything in the dark, OK?"

"OK," she smiled faintly, then turned to follow their partner.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Still fuming about the situation, Chuck pulled himself over the backseat and turned on the monitors. There they were, "CaseyCam" and "SarahCam". They were whispering about their approach, but weren't talking about him. Now wasn't the time, and besides, they knew Chuck would be listening.

There were a number of entrances, but after trying the first three and finding them locked, they determined that all would be the same. Sarah picked her way inside the third door. From there, it was into the dark with flashlights. This whole scenario made him think of Mulder and Sculley, and Chuck began to whistle the X-Files theme, until Casey growled at him to stop.

"Eep! Sorry."

"Try to keep radio silence, Chuck, unless you see anything that causes you to flash," said Sarah.

Chuck whispered, "Understood," and kept his mouth shut.

Almost an hour passed of Casey and Sarah bumping around in the dark, exploring rooms, and consistently finding nothing. The fact that they weren't even talking made the whole experience only that much more boring. Chuck might have thought that tranqing himself wasn't such a bad idea, after all, but he was pretty tired anyway. The prior night's activities had taken a lot out of him, and he had neglected to take the suggested nap.

As a result, his eyelids began to droop.

"Hold it," said Casey.

"Mmm?" Chuck jerked his eyes open.

"What?" asked Sarah.

"Do you see that?" asked Casey.

"No, I don't."

Chuck was trying to focus on the screen though his drowsiness. He couldn't see anything either.

Then the screen went black. Chuck was about to comment on this when he heard Sarah yell in a shocked voice, "WHAT?" then the sound was dead from both of them.

"Guys? Guys?" Chuck was wide awake now, working the monitor controls trying to re-establish audio, visual, _anything_.

He didn't hear it over the intercom, but he heard it faintly through the car windows. The sound of a gun discharging. He also saw an ever so brief flash though a window in the warehouse.

"GUYS?" Chuck continued to work the controls even more frantically. Nothing. Nothing at all.

They were in trouble. His friends were in trouble. _Sarah_ was in trouble.

When the sensation came, he welcomed it gratefully.

_Flash. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Here we are with Chapter 3 and I still don't own Chuck.**

**Thanks for the reading and the reviews, everybody! Please keep 'em coming.**

**Thanks Anon for advising me to tighten up my initial paragraphs. Thanks to my wife for the extensive help she provided to me on this chapter, especially in fixing a major logic flaw, and as always for her technical understanding.**

**This chapter is shorter than the norm, and ends abruptly. Next chapter will be longer, with more Charah!**

**________________________________________________________________________**

Events were happening simultaneously.

A diagram of the van's schematics unfurled in front of Chuck's vision. Chuck was stuck in an observational state while the Intersect controlled his body. He grabbed the dashboard panel, yanking it off. The GPS was connected to the vehicle computer immediately behind the panel. Chuck's hands grabbed onto the device, found the operating switch and flicked it into the off position.

Chuck marveled at how relatively simple that particular solution was. Then the engine started, and the car peeled off, driving away from the warehouse. Chuck's hands twitched for a second, then grabbed for the GPS once again, this time separating the device from all its connecting cables. The car continued to drive away, picking up speed. The word "error" blinked on over the GPS schematics before that screen subsection folded up and disappeared.

_Great. _The Intersect apparently hadn't compensated for the possibility that Casey might have anticipated this action. It seemed there was another GPS buried deeper within the vehicle, but Chuck had a feeling he would be unable to access it from here.

The van schematics were still up. A cursor seemed to scroll over different portions of the poster, quickly blinking on one section before the whole screen blinked off. Chuck suddenly found himself folding up the back seat and yanking up a panel underneath the floor, uncovering a hidden compartment.

Guns. Many guns. He pulled one in particular. Chuck had a second to wonder if it was loaded, before the Intersect had him check the magazine, slap it back in, pull the slide to chamber a round, and fire at the door. The windows were bulletproof; the locking mechanism apparently was not as it exited the vehicle with the bullet. Chuck turned the handle and the door flew open.

By now, the vehicle was pushing 40 miles per hour, so it was with a considerable amount of fear that Chuck found himself crouching in the doorway of a moving van, tucking the gun in the back of his jeans.

"Going fast. Going _very_ fast." Chuck had no doubt what the Intersect was going to have him do at any moment. He also knew that all those movies that had guys jumping off moving vehicles never seemed to fully explain that the human body was going the same speed as those vehicles, and in reality, a human being was not meant to jump and land at 40 miles per hour.

For all of this, the van had only driven one and a half miles since starting, and was reaching the end of a straight line before it had to make a turn. The vehicle began to gradually slow, but not nearly enough. Chuck felt his leg muscles tighten as his arms wrapped themselves around his chest and his head tucked in.

"StillgoingtooFAST!!!" Chuck screamed, as he pushed off from the van.

His shoulder hit ground and he rolled with the momentum to his side. Fortunately, the ground wasn't pavement. There wasn't gravel or something worse. Not that he went unscathed. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and side and from his face hitting and scraping along the dirt sliding under him. The rest of his body had been fairly well cushioned by his jeans and jacket.

His mind hoped for an end to the momentum and a stop. Instead, he found himself back on his feet, running flat out toward the warehouse. He had to sprint two miles. Chuck wouldn't have believed it possible, even if he hadn't just jumped from a moving vehicle, even with Casey's training. _I'm coming. Be OK. Please. Please._

He ran straight to the door his friends had finally used. He tried the knob. Locked. Somebody had locked it since Sarah and Casey entered. Chuck listened. Nothing. He stood to one side of the door and shot the lock off. He then kicked the door open. Nothing. Chuck slid along the wall, gun arm raised, finger on the trigger. No ambush occurred.

He came out into the main space. It was pitch dark. He didn't have a flashlight. He continued to press his way along the wall, trying to move quickly but silently so he could catch any foe unawares. The place was huge; a maze of hallways made from cubicle partitions and even with illumination, Chuck's partners had wandered almost an hour before whatever had befallen them. However, that had been because they had explored every room and desk along their way. He didn't need to do that. Additionally, the route that they had taken seemed mapped out in his mind, at least up until the time he had begun nodding off in the van. Thus, Chuck's progress was much faster in spite of the darkness, but more careful due to unknown dangers. Even so, it was almost twenty minutes before the silence was broken.

A thumping sound came from a room down the hall. As he got closer, Chuck thought he recognized Sarah's voice, though muffled, the grunts she made while she was in physical combat. Of Casey, Chuck heard nothing. Chuck fought the urge to call out. That might distract Sarah's attacker, but then again, it might distract her as well, leaving her vulnerable. Plus, he didn't know for sure how many people there were in the room. Alerted, the bad guys could come out blasting. Chuck's best hope was the element of surprise. Not that Chuck necessarily had a conscious choice in his decisions, but at least, the Intersect seemed in agreement with his conscious mind for once. Gun in hand, he snuck to the door.

Standing there, Chuck heard Sarah yelling, her words interspersed with sounds of fist hitting flesh. "Let" – SMACK - "me" – SMACK - "through" – SMACK – "NOW!" Her blows were immediately followed by something (or somebody) colliding with the door. Chuck's fingers briefly brushed the door. Metal. He hoped the Intersect wouldn't have him try to shoot the lock off again. He might unintentionally hit the people on the other side. Strangely, as if once more agreeing with him, the Intersect tucked his gun again into the back of his jeans, then grabbed the door knob and turned it. He pulled the door open, outwards toward him.

A body fell backwards through the entrance, and smacked onto the floor.

A second later, Chuck heard a "click" sound coming from the person at his feet, and the place lit up, fully illuminated. Sarah was standing inside the room, breathing heavily, drenched in sweat. Her face was twisted in rage. Aside from bruised and bloody knuckles, she appeared unharmed.

The person who had fallen through the doorway was their partner, John Casey. The man had seen better days. His face appeared broken. His lips were cut in multiple places. Both eyes looked to be almost swollen shut. Blood wept from various gashes on his face. That was just Casey's face. One of his wrists was twisted at an odd angle. Chuck was looking at that wrist when Casey's hand moved shakily and pressed something. He opened his hand and Chuck could see what appeared to be a small remote control.

Looking at Chuck, though Chuck wasn't sure if the man could fully see him, Casey croaked out one word. "Time."

Chuck felt the Intersect leave him. "Are you KIDDING me?" he yelled.

Sarah rushed over to Chuck. "Are you OK? You're hurt." She began to brush the dirt off, and inspect his wounds. Chuck was having a hard time looking away from the Colonel. Sarah saw and her expression became almost anguished. "I didn't know until he broke our contact with you and then shot his gun into the ceiling. I couldn't reach you, the window was unbreakable, and he blocked the door with his body. He- he wouldn't fight back, but he kept blocking me and wouldn't let go of that goddamned remote in his hand! I didn't – what he did was awful. I didn't want him to do that to you, and I didn't – I don't want you to think that I had anything to do with-"

Chuck pulled her to him and hugged her. "I know you didn't. It's OK, Sarah." Even while reassuring her, Chuck didn't take his eyes off of his other partner. The man was lying on the floor, breathing heavily. Chuck wasn't entirely sure if Casey was conscious or not. For the moment, he didn't care. He turned away. "Let's go", he said to Sarah.

"H-hold it."

Chuck turned back around. John Casey was awake. Not only that, but he was standing up, though with the appearance of great pain and difficulty.

"You're not…" The man took a shaky breath. "You're not going anywhere."

Sarah snarled and started to move forward, but Chuck held her by her shoulder. "Sarah", he said, "let me take this one."

Casey actually nodded. "That's right. You. Bartowski. You don't leave… unless you can take me out… without… me having to punch… Walker in the face."

Chuck was stunned. Again he said, this time in a voice so soft almost to be a whisper, "Are you kidding me?"

"Never kid," croaked the Colonel. "You… can't get it up unless… your girlfriend is… in trouble. Gonna get us all killed if you can't… fix it."

Casey suddenly stumbled backward. To their mutual surprise, both Chuck and Sarah rushed forward and grabbed the man before he fell. They slowly sat him down so he was leaning against a wall.

"Friends don't pull this crap," Chuck muttered.

Chuck thought he saw Casey's eyes roll under the swollen lids. "I'm the only… friend you… have now. I know how to protect you. She-"Casey nudged his head to Sarah – "She's compromised."

"I can trust her!" Chuck barked.

Casey groaned. "Maybe she won't lie to you, anymore. You can… trust her as your… girlfriend. Me, I'll lie to you. I'll trick you. I'll make your life… hell, but you can trust me to keep you alive, and to help you… do your damn job. You know it, you… asshole."

Chuck and Sarah looked at each other, and then looked back at Casey. Finally, Chuck moaned, "Help me move him."

They both got on one side of the Colonel, and pulled him up, keeping him upright between them. "The van is probably back in Burbank right now," said Chuck.

"S'alright," slurred Casey. "The Vic is parked in the back."

"Oh good. You can bleed on your upholstery." They slowly made their way out of the warehouse, which was now fully lit in all the hallways. Right before they entered the car, Chuck said, "I promise I'm going to pay you back for this, John."

Casey just groaned.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**First off, kudos to Joe 262 for figuring out what was actually going on! **

**And now, a Public Service Announcement:**

**Jumping off or out of moving vehicles is extremely stupid, dangerous, and provides an excellent opportunity to win a Darwin award. I know. I did it. (Well, obviously, I didn't win a Darwin award, as I am here typing this.) I was 17, and thought it would be fun to sit on my car's hood while my friend drove it. I got a bit panicky though when he began to pick up speed, and I believed he was about to turn onto a much busier street. It is not so much that I forgot the laws of physics, but that I never really understood the laws of physics to begin with. I jumped off when he slowed down for a turn. The car was still going at about 20 mph. I landed on my feet and then fell flat on my face. On asphalt. My face looked like a pizza for awhile, but it all healed, thankfully. I do have a small scar from the experience on my hip though. I was extremely lucky. I've looked up articles, and people die doing that. Or sometimes, they just get severely brain injured. The movies make this stunt look easy. Don't be fooled.**

**And now that I've done my part in warning away all my readers who had planned to jump off or out of moving vehicles, I feel a better person. See you all for Chapter 4! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi everybody! Well, this chapter brings us to the end of another part of the saga. Thanks to all for reading and reviewing this one.**

**As always, thanks to Anon and my wife for editing. **

**I don't own any part of the Chuck universe.  
**

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After driving in silence, the team arrived back in Burbank and convened in Casey's apartment. First aid was applied to everybody's wounds. Sarah required the least, consisting of bandages to her hands. Chuck's side, shoulder, and face were cleaned and disinfected. His body had suffered heavy bruising and his muscles were quite sore. His face looked like he had been in a fight. One eye was becoming quite swollen, and there were multiple abrasions, though minor. He had gotten off easy compared to Casey, who was limping, had to have his wrist splinted, and was almost unrecognizable now due to his facial damage. On the ride home, Chuck had asked Casey if he needed to be taken to the emergency room. There was always the possibility of concussion, or worse, internal bleeding. Casey denied the need for it, saying that his nose wasn't even broken this time. Even so, Sarah checked him over thoroughly upon the return, before she was satisfied that they could avoid the hospital. They sat him on the couch, covered in ice packs. They turned around and were about to walk out, when Casey spoke with effort. "Don't you want to know how you did?"

Chuck turned back, glaring at the older man. He wanted to tell Casey that he didn't care about the results, that the whole test was a dirty trick, and that Casey could take his results and shove them up his ass. But…

Chuck sighed. He sat down on the couch and mumbled, "Tell me how I did."

Sarah couldn't seem to believe it. "Chuck!"

"Sarah, just…. I need to know, OK?"

She seemed to gnash her teeth but didn't say anything else.

If Casey was satisfied, there was no way to tell it from his damaged face. He pulled out his timer, and read, "33 minutes, 22 seconds. That's from the moment I shot the gun to when you came through the door and found us." Chuck looked at Casey, wanting to ask if that was good, but willing himself not to do it. Casey reached for a remote. Two clicks and he had dimmed the light and turned on his television. Another click and an image came of the van interior, and of Chuck, inside. Casey forwarded the footage to just before the flash. Chuck watched as he reacted to the events, as his eyes fluttered, then seemed to glaze over. They watched all the action within the van, up to the point where Chuck jumped. Chuck had assumed that this was where the action ended, but in fact, the screen simply switched to an external view of the van, and tracked Chuck's jump and fall.

Sarah hissed and Chuck grimaced, but Casey paused the scene and replayed it in slow motion. Chuck thought that Casey might be mocking him, but the Colonel said, "That's actually pretty good. By the time you jumped, the van had slowed down to just over 20 miles per hour. It's very hard to land safely going from that speed. First few times I did that, I got banged up pretty bad."

Sarah nodded, though she appeared to do so reluctantly. "Me too. You did well."

Chuck turned a bit red. "Well, it was the Intersect actually. If I'd tried to do that myself, I probably would have broken my neck."

Neither of his partners commented. Casey restarted the video. They timed Chuck's run back to the warehouse. "Wow," Chuck whispered, watching himself sprint.

"You're outpacing me," Casey said in a neutral voice. "I haven't reached that speed. I'm pretty fast too. Don't think you quite have Walker's record, but-"

"He's pretty close to it, though." Sarah was leaning forward, obviously fascinated.

They watched the video Chuck slow down as he reached the warehouse and go to the correct door, then listen, shoot the lock, and enter.

"Solid approach," said Casey. "That's the way you're supposed to do it."

Sarah muttered, "I remember when you weren't able to shoot the lock off of that freezer door." She smiled at Chuck then. He smiled in return.

New infrared cameras tracked him inside the warehouse. They watched his careful but quick approach.

"How did you know which direction to go, Chuck?" asked Sarah.

"I think the Intersect drew from my memories of watching you two. I knew the exact way you had gone in, up until the point that I started nodding off in the van." He looked guiltily at Casey, but the big man said nothing. Eventually, Chuck was right outside the front door. They watched him open it, and Casey fall through.

"And this is where the Intersect turned off, right as I realized what happened." He looked at Casey again, and didn't feel guilty anymore. He felt righteously pissed off. "So?"

Casey turned off the video and sat back on the couch. "So in addition to fighting capability, the Intersect also gives you vehicle and device specs, and helps you pick correct firearms, and to effectively hold, aim and discharge the weapon. It allows you to make a jump from a moving vehicle with relatively minor damage. It gives you sufficient adrenaline to go from a jump like that without rest to a 2-mile sprint. It allows you to safely enter and navigate a building in darkness where hostiles may be present."

Chuck said, "It didn't compensate well for your GPS trick."

Casey shook his head. "You wasted less than 20 seconds on the GPS, before you turned around and got to the guns. That's still amazing reaction time." He looked at Chuck. "We successfully learned more about some of the new Intersect's capabilities. And there's probably more where that came from."

"That you're going to learn through more tricks?" spat Chuck.

Casey crossed his arms. "If I have to."

"Just one problem with that, Casey. I'm onto you now. It's the whole 'crying wolf' scenario."

"Are you willing to bet Walker's life on that, Chuck?" Casey ignored the dangerous looks from his partners, but continued. "Sure, it may be a set-up sometimes, but other times, it's going to be deadly real. Are you willing to take bets on which? The Intersect probably won't be able to tell." In response to their scowls, Casey leaned forward. "You need to get off of your high horse, Bartowski. All this crap with 'I want to be an agent but I don't want to kill anybody' or 'I have this power but I don't want to use it unless my girlfriend is in danger' is just that. Crap. You were annoying as hell when you were only an asset, but I could brush it off, because you were put in this situation against your will, and you still tried, but now you have made a _choice_, Bartowski. You signed up, and none of us made you do it. Now, you're all whiny that you don't want to have to do everything that choice entails. Well, no more. Either grow the fuck up or go find your daddy and have him take the Intersect out again. With what this country is up against, we don't have time for this shit.

Chuck stood up, chewing his lip and glaring at the Colonel. Then, he walked to the door, muttering, "I am so going to get you for this, Casey."

Casey grunted. "I'll be waiting, Nerd Boy."

In spite of himself, Chuck smirked. He then looked at Sarah. "Are you coming?"

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll be there," she said.

He nodded and walked out.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When the door closed, Sarah turned to her partner. "I'm not going to apologize for what I did."

Casey shrugged. "I'm not going to apologize for what I did, either."

"You could have told me what you were planning."

"Sure. Would you have gone along with it? If you had, then what? Either Chuck would have found out and gotten hurt because you went along with it, or you wouldn't tell him, and you'd feel guilty. Each outcome would put a strain on your relationship, and I am already sick of you two moping around."

"You said I'm compromised." There was no anger or petulance in her voice. No argument. "Why haven't you asked for me to be reassigned? Or are you going to after this?"

"I don't think we'd be able to get you reassigned unless you actually got Chuck or me killed."

A chill ran through her. "Do you think I'm going to?"

Casey seemed to think about it for a moment. "No. When it comes down to it, I think you're going to come through. Maybe not on anything that requires hurting Bartowski's feelings, but hey, that's what you've got me here for, right?" He didn't seem to have any ill will when he said it.

Sarah looked at him. In spite of herself, some shame was sneaking in. "Maybe…. Maybe I do owe you an apology."

He shook his head. "Don't. You did what you needed to do. Leave it at that."

"Are you going to be OK?"

"Yeah. Seems like I get beat up a lot on this assignment, doesn't it?"

She nodded, slightly smiling.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chuck was on his computer, typing away, and whistling "Ride of the Valkyries."

When Sarah entered the apartment and asked him how he was doing, Chuck looked up and said, "I'm mad, Baby. Mad." He said it with a smile though.

"You don't seem that angry," she commented.

Chuck shrugged. "Oh, I'm not, really. I don't like how Casey went about it, but I get what he was trying to do. Besides, you kicked the crap out of him."

Sarah grinned. "I always do. So, does this mean that your threats for revenge-"

"Oh, I'm gonna get him. I'm gonna get him in a way he least suspects." Chuck turned the flat screen of his monitor around so Sarah could see. On it was a large picture of Casey. He was wearing his government suit. His arms were crossed and he had a grim smile on his face. Below the picture were Casey's vital statistics, hobbies, and other interests.

It was a profile for a dating website.

Sarah's eyes widened in horror. "My God! He'll kill you!" She stopped and thought about it for a moment. Gradually the look of horror turned into another expression entirely. "Can I help?" Her tone was eager.

Chuck's grin turned wider. He gestured for her to pull up a chair.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chuck microwaved some leftover Chinese food, and they spent some quality time with Casey's profile. They should have been exhausted, but were too wired to sleep.

About an hour in, Chuck brought up the events of the night. "Casey was right. I know he was right. But it's not like I'm consciously controlling this thing in my brain."

Sarah's expression grew solemn. "I know."

He looked at her. "Um, what do you think about it? About the Intersect only going into 'action mode' when you're in danger?"

She cleared her throat. "Ah, I, uh.... I agree with Casey. That can't be the only time it activates. It's dangerous, otherwise."

"Oh." He looked a little sad.

Her brows furrowed. "Oh, what?"

"Well, I just… I know that it's not - not safe, but... well, I was thinking that maybe at least a part of you might, um, like it."

Sarah looked confused for a moment, but then her eyes widened as his meaning sunk in. Her face suddenly became very red, and she smiled a little bit, actually looking shy. She suddenly turned her gaze away from him.

Chuck's eyebrows rose. "Wait a minute."

She started rolling back her chair away from him, keeping her face firmly planted in another direction. Chuck started rolling after her with his own chair. "Wait a minute. Hey! Look at me!" He reached out to take her hand. She playfully slapped it away. He said, "Holy crap. You _do_ like it!"

She muttered under her breath, "I don't know what you're taking about," but he could tell she was struggling to not laugh.

"Oh, come on! Admit it!"

"No."

"No?"

"No." The way she said that was high-pitched, almost giggly. Coming from Agent Sarah Walker, it was absolutely adorable.

"OK. Look at me in the eyes and say that."

Slowly, Sarah turned her head to look at him.

Then, right before she was about to make eye contact, she bolted from the chair out the door.

Chuck laughed and dived after her, barely avoiding tripping over her chair in the process.

He caught up to her in the living room.

________________________________________________________________________

"Ow," said Chuck, half-sighing.

"Mmmmm?" Sarah's eyes were closed. She was smiling, half-asleep.

"My body aches from everything I did this evening. On top of that, I'm now rug burned."

"Well earned," she yawned. She rolled over to him and kissed him on the hurt shoulder.

"Yup." He grinned. "So, you still haven't admitted it."

She groaned. "The sex was supposed to be a distraction."

"Yeah, well, you distracted me for..." He blinked up at the clock. "Almost a half-hour. Now admit it."

Her eyes opened and she smiled. "You are pushing a deadly spy whose fingernails are right next to your privates."

Chuck gulped. "You make a good point. I'm going to roll over now."

He began to do just that, when she grabbed his shoulders, though careful not to hurt him. She was gently laughing.  
"Wait, wait. OK." Sarah took a deep breath. "A little."

"A little?"

She clarified. "I admit to liking _just a little bit _that the Intersect turns on to protect me." Seeing his grin widening, she added, "Gloat, and no rolling over will save you."

Chuck did his best to get his expression under control.

Sarah's smile faltered. "But Chuck... I know it's romantic in its own way, coming from you, but it's also extremely dangerous. You know that."

He shook his head. "I don't care. I'd give my life for you."

In response to that, Sarah began to look away. He took her face in his hands and held her gaze. He said, "You would give your life for me. It's only fair."

"Fairness has nothing to do with it. Your life is more important than mine."

He rolled his eyes. "Because of the secrets in my head. Because of my importance to the country, blah, blah, blah..."

Her gaze became steely. "Yeah, all that stuff. And also, because your death would kill me. It would _kill _me."

Now he had difficulty keeping her gaze. He said, "You can't ask me not to try to save you. I'm not able to do that."

To his surprise, she said, "OK." He looked back at her. She seemed resolved. "OK. You want to protect me, just as I try to protect you? I won't stop you. All I ask is that you find a way to get the Intersect to protect yourself too, just as I use my skills to protect myself. Fair?"

He nodded, tentatively. "Fair. I can't make any promises, but I'll try."

Sarah said, "Good. I know you would die for me, and while I appreciate that, Chuck, I want you to live for me, more."

He smiled. "I like that. Hey, what's wrong?"

Sarah seemed nervous now. Uncomfortable. "I have something I've needed to tell you for awhile." She swallowed. "I'm afraid you're going to take it the wrong way."

He took her hands in his and tried to communicate trust and safety with his eyes. It seemed to work.

"Chuck," she paused, and then continued softly, "I love you, Chuck." She looked down quickly at his hands as if afraid he was going to pull them away. He didn't.

Instead Chuck gently said, "Hey, that's the first time you've said that to me." She nodded, jerkily. Speaking softly, he asked, "How would I take that other than the most wonderful thing I've ever heard?"

She stammered, "You could- you might think I was trying to use your feelings to control you, that I might not be telling the tru- mmmmpppphhh"

He had grabbed her and pulled her face to him. It was a few minutes later when he broke away from her, and looked in her eyes again. "I'm insecure, I'm jealous, I don't know how I got so lucky. But, Sarah, when you tell me that you love me, I believe you. I thank you. I love you."

The smile that she gave him was perhaps the most beautiful he had ever seen from her.

They kept eye contact for an unknown length of time, then she whispered, "Chuck?"

"Yes, Sarah?" He replied, also in a whisper.

"You stopped kissing me."

He licked his lips. "I'd better make it up to you."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sarah woke up later. They had fallen asleep, but not before Chuck had retrieved blankets to drape over them in the living room.

She rose to get a drink of water from the kitchen, noting that the first signs of dawn were beginning to seep through the curtains. They'd be able to sleep in today. Casey had said that the follow-up with Beckman wouldn't need to be until that evening, and it being a weekend, they didn't need to go into the office.

Chuck was out, gently snoring. She stood considering his face. Even with the injuries, he was beautiful. Sarah allowed herself to relive her overdue revelation to him, and his response. She'd never believed she could feel this elated, this happy. The highs and lows of this relationship were unlike anything she'd ever felt, even with Bryce.

She had never experienced young love in high school. Was this what it was like to feel like a teenager? Out of control hormones? She found herself not caring.

Her mind flickered to what Casey had said about her being compromised. Well, she was. Of course, she was. She had made a genuine effort to avoid this, even tried to leave, and Beckman wouldn't let her. Part of her knew this was an awful mistake, becoming more dangerous every day. Yet, that part was being drowned out more and more by the intensity of these emotions that she was feeling. She wanted these feelings. She wanted him. She loved him. She smiled widely. _I am so gone._

The sound of the breaking glass caused that wonderful high to turn into something else, in but a second's time. Her head snapped in the direction from which the sound came. Chuck's bedroom. She was standing there naked, without her weapons, and danger was coming to take him away. This time, the reality of being compromised hit her like a brick. She was not going to fail him. They were not going to take him. They were _not_.

Sarah had left her gun in the bedroom, but her knives were available among her discarded clothing. She grabbed them. She didn't bother to put any clothes on. There wasn't time. She needed to protect Chuck. So focused was she that she didn't notice a stirring behind her as she turned toward the bedroom.

There was more sound of glass shards falling on the floor. Sarah snuck her face around the doorframe and looked inside. Somebody was outside the window; well, window frame now. Most of the window was smashed into pieces on the inside of the bedroom. Even with the coming daybreak, it was impossible for Sarah to make out the intruder's features. The face was hooded, in shadow, though she thought she could make out the silhouette of a man's chin. He was using his elbow to knock out the remaining glass. This done, the man placed his hand on the interior latch. Sarah didn't make a sound as she hurled one of her knives, aiming for the man's chest. At that moment, things happened very fast.

The man raised his head, and too late, Sarah recognized him. However, the knife had flown. Less than a second later, the man went flying away from the window with a startled shout, another man entering the space where the first had vacated. A hand came down from the new man, and caught the knife by the handle, turning the blade less than an inch away from where it would have struck him. Sarah's eyes widened.

Sarah heard a familiar voice say, "Ow! What was _that_? Chuck? Hey, what happened to you?"

Chuck made shushing noises in the direction of the voice. His eyes glanced ever so briefly at Sarah. Chuck dropped the knife back into the bedroom. Then he walked toward the voice.

Sarah stood frozen for a moment. She had almost stabbed-! And then Chuck had pushed him out of the way! Where had Chuck come from? And Chuck had _caught_ her knife? The only way he could have done that was if the Intersect had turned on! The Intersect had turned on for somebody besides her?

Forcing herself to move, Sarah retrieved her knife, then stashed her knives and gun into a dresser drawer. Wrapping a sheet discreetly around herself, she ran back into the living room, and noted the ajar front door.

She ran outside. There they were. Chuck was in nothing but his boxers. At least nobody else was up at this point. Chuck was talking to the would-be intruder. They were actually _laughing._

"Hey!" she said, trying to keep her voice down.

Chuck turned his head, and smiled. "Hey hon! Look who I found lurking around."

He stepped aside to reveal a short man still sitting awkwardly on the ground, his hoodie now pulled completely down around his face that had obviously been recently shaved.

Sarah had never seen the man without his beard.

Clearly trying not to ogle at her almost unclothed form, Morgan Grimes, said, "Uh, hi Sarah! Miss me?"

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**To be continued in "Sarah Vs. the Best Friend"**


End file.
